


Overheard

by theyellowbeetle



Category: The Borgias
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowbeetle/pseuds/theyellowbeetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: "Benito overheard more between the Cardinal and his manservant while on the road than the talk of drowning."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overheard

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for 2x08, if you haven't seen it yet. repost from the meme [here](http://borgiaskink.livejournal.com/1939.html?thread=295827#t295827) because I'm actually pretty proud of it. Thanks to the lovely people who egged me on while I was spamming [Algrenion](algrenion.tumblr.com).

“ _Micheletto_ ,” he hears Borgia say when they’ve stopped for Benito to relieve himself.

His ears easily pick up the name, the tone something soft and sweet, not the usual command. The first time Benito had met this Borgia he had seemed very collected, almost brooding. It strikes him as odd, and when Benito turns to face them, he finds Borgia and Micheletto standing together.

Borgia has a hand on Micheletto’s shoulder, fingers curled into his cloak, but Micheletto is staring at Benito as he's done since _they’ve_ had the honor of meeting. Benito can imagine them as master and hound, hunting in these woods, and Benito would be the prey.

They part, and Borgia beckons, “Come, boy.”

Borgia mounts his horse first. Micheletto waits for Benito to follow before mounting his own.

 

-

 

Benito noticed the measures taken to avoid other travelers, so it is not surprising when they don’t spend the night in a town. Borgia wishes for this part of their trip to be swift and private, and his attitude remains appreciatively distant towards Benito. 

But Micheletto is Cesare Borgia’s dark shadow, and his hound. He watches and waits on Borgia’s behalf.

It is Benito’s hand that wakes him later, a terrible pain shooting up his arm and locking him in place with the force of it. There is the shift of a body behind him, and Benito struggles to keep the appearance of sleep and mask his agony. The words _best I kill you now_ still echo in his mind.

Benito will keep his resolve. He _will_ live through this.

“The boy sleeps,” Borgia whispers.

“None too deeply, I suspect.”

“Stay for just a moment, then. Resume your patrol afterwards if you must.”

“I must, Your Eminence.”

Benito can’t distinguish, but he thinks Micheletto draws closer. The image of the hound coming to kneel at Borgia’s side like a dutiful pet earning his small bit of praise can’t be helped, and Benito wonders if Micheletto curls up at his master’s feet like one, too.

Borgia shed his Cardinal robes as soon as they had made camp, and Benito listens to the rustle and slide of the Borgia’s civilian leathers against Micheletto’s softer cloth. “Hush, my friend,” is murmured by Borgia, which seems unprompted by Benito, but then there is a grunt of protest followed by a pleasant hum, the wet, slick sounds of a kiss.

Benito’s eyes fly open and he so is very lucky not to be facing them directly, it takes everything to not otherwise move. He tries to keep his focus, breathing in and out, slow and even. They continue on like such for several long moments, before Borgia says with a frustrated hiss, “The boy is _asleep_ , Micheletto.”

“This is not wise, Your Eminence,” Micheletto says, and Benito can’t believe the choked off whine, albeit gruff, could come from the man.

“Fine,” Borgia sighs, and then there is a shift and slide as the two presumably fix themselves. Benito can’t hear the scrape of Micheletto’s boots, but he somehow knows the man has drifted closer to inspect him.

A scoff of indignation, or maybe disgust, signals Micheletto’s return to his guard. It is some time before he hears Borgia’s breathing even off into slumber.

Benito falls asleep without realizing it, suddenly opening his eyes to the stab of sunlight. Micheletto is there, looming above and ready to shake him awake. Benito feels like he has won at some game when he manages not to flinch.

Micheletto scowls and gives his injured side a rough shove anyway. “Get up. It's time to go.”

Benito stares at the man, memory of noises in the dark still on his mind. Micheletto has the bark and bite, but he is still as needy as any other dog.


End file.
